


Palate Cleanser

by artificial_ink



Series: Rules of Attraction [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Brock Rumlow likes to finish what he starts, Darcy tries to rebound, F/M, Lucky for Darcy it's her, Not pro Ian Boothby, Post-Break Up, Post-Break Up Rebounding, Smutty Finale, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-07 02:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15209033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificial_ink/pseuds/artificial_ink
Summary: In the wake of her break up, Darcy decides that she should get hers.





	1. Prologue (Lost My Mind)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all. I've had this in my head as a basic concept for a while but shout out to Ozhawk who suggested the scenario, which got me thinking about it more. And voila!  
> Please note, the last chapter will likely be explicit and the rating will go up accordingly.  
> Chapter title from Lily Allen's song. Check it out for a short musical accompaniment. 
> 
> And as always, thanks to everyone who reads, comments and kudos this series!

To say Darcy was devastated was an understatement. In fact, her entire world was falling apart and she was desperate to grab onto something solid to keep her from slipping past the depths of rock bottom. Instead of allowing herself to dwell in the sorrow and utter despair she felt, Darcy picked up whatever pieces she could and went into work. As much as she wanted to stay in bed all week, eat junk food and cry, Darcy knew it would not do her any good to mourn the fact that she was no longer going to marry Ian Boothby. It wouldn’t do any good for her to take apart every interaction they’d had in the past few months when he’d insisted he realized things weren’t working out for him. It wouldn’t benefit her to question what was wrong with her that she couldn’t keep his interest or to ask herself the hundreds of things she could have done better. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t even do her any good to burn an effigy of him because a secret part of her was kind of relieved that she wasn’t going to upheave her life again and move to England to start anew with him.

Darcy did her best to put on a neutral face and work in the archives, laugh at the jokes that Veronica showered her with and eat the lunches Trent bought her while he listed all the reasons why she was amazing. When that wasn’t enough, she would hide in the coat closet and let some tears fall. Because even though she knew deep down that she and Ian weren’t meant for each other, she still loved the skinny, awkward nerd that liked to bird watch and talk about theories she’d never heard of even after years with Jane. Maybe they weren’t the perfect fit but she would have been content living the rest of her life with him.

Except, now she realized she would have only been content for a few years. That was probably the hardest thing for her to process. Honestly, she wasn’t ready to process how Ian had known he would end things with her months before, yet never showed an inkling of it. All the while, he booked a flight to the States because he ‘missed her’ but really only to ask for the ring back. She had to tell her family, then friends and then Facebook acquaintances that she was no longer getting married. Everyone looked at her like she was fragile and broken, which she did kind of feel like but it wasn’t how she wanted to be treated. Or she could talk to her sister who would passive aggressively suggest it was Darcy’s fault the relationship failed (spoiler alert: Darcy avoided talking to her sister at all cost). Darcy didn’t actually know how she wanted to be treated but she knew she wasn’t a baby bird with a broken wing nor was she fully to blame. 

Everything sucked until not _everything_ sucked and Darcy’s laughter was less forced and she found she didn’t mind sticking to Trent’s ‘wedding hot’ diet plan even though there wasn’t going to be a wedding. She found that she was slowly healing and it was at a faster rate than if she’d been truly in love with Ian. Darcy genuinely liked her life in DC even if it had been built to be temporary. She would have been truly sorry to say goodbye to Trent and Veronica. It took Darcy about three weeks to accept that she was not going to marry Ian. The sadness ebbed and waking up in the morning was no longer a constant trial. Ian was no longer her every thought. Life started to feel somewhat normal again.

Then at week four, the anger started. 


	2. She Loves Control

For some reason, Darcy started this week in a rage. She was short tempered and so snippy that even Veronica had held her tongue. Although Darcy apologized, she still couldn’t bury the anger but Veronica insisted she let it all out. This was apparently one of the five stages that Darcy would be going through now that her relationship with Ian was officially dead.

Saturday morning had started off with an email from Ian asking for a necklace back. Honestly, the request seemed within reason and she’d gone to the post office without much of a fuss. It was healthy to be letting go of Ian’s stuff now they were no longer together and the necklace had been his great grandmother’s. Darcy didn’t really have a right to keep it.

As the weekend continued, little thoughts popped up in Darcy’s head. Like how when he’d broken it off with her, he’d asked for a lot of his stuff back, not that Darcy had much of it in the US. Just his family heirlooms and sweaters of his she liked to wear. It started off as one little errant thought, like how someone else would be wearing his favorite sweaters. Then that morphed to how his future girlfriend would be wearing his family’s jewelry and if his family would like her more than Darcy? Then the realization hit that about five months ago, Ian’s silly little gifts and care packages stopped. Combined with the fact that when Ian broke things off, he admitted to having just met a woman in his labs he felt ‘different’ with…

It all suddenly felt suspicious.

Smash cut to Monday morning where Darcy did some non-work related sleuthing and found that the girl Ian was now seeing (Facebook official and all) had started working at the lab five months ago. Veronica, being the enabling friend she was, also joined in on the sleuthing. She had access codes to camera footage in the archives, which made the whole situation simultaneously better and worse. Soon enough, Veronica had found some footage of Ian’s new girlfriend kissing him in the labs a week after she started working for SHIELD and Ian doing nothing to push her away.

That’s when Darcy’s rage _really_ started.

Ian had asked to stay friends, the backstabbing ass, but Darcy had agreed to the friendship with the request to be given time. Of course, she hadn’t realized he’d been cheating on her for much longer than admitted. Actual cheating, not emotional cheating. What really irked her was when Veronica kept uncovering footage of Ian and his science slut. That little stick bug had cheated on her for _four_ damn months. He’d booked his flight to the States soon after he’d started up with the science slut, meaning he did it with the intention of breaking things off while ensuring he’d get all his family heirlooms back. This realization led to many more as Darcy sifted through all her ‘odd’ interactions with Ian in the last few months of their relationship. Not to forget all the money she’d spent on wedding items, that were sent to him in England. Money she probably wasn’t going to get back and items she knew for a fact he hadn’t been returned yet. If Darcy could send him a damn necklace via international priority mail, Ian could pay her back for the cute ass little bits and bobs she bought for the gift bags. Thank god Darcy’s mom insisted on using her old wedding dress with some revamping and alterations or else the debt would be unforgivable. Though Darcy’s super expensive lingerie was gonna go to waste but thankfully that hadn’t been sent to him. 

By Wednesday, both Trent and Veronica were caught up and were riding above recommended speed on the ‘Hate Ian’ train.Truth be told, Darcy kind of enjoyed the anger. It was better than sadness and she was up and moving without having to really think about it. In fact, she was now pacing in one of the Triskelion conference rooms as she tried to eat her lunch. Trent and Veronica watched her in mild interest as she ranted. If she weren’t so angry, maybe she’d thank their luck that that were able to snag an empty room. It was coveted real estate in the Triskelion because this hall of conference rooms overlooked the Atrium with large windows. Just below them, SHIELD was continuing about its day, completely ignorant of Darcy’s rage.

“I just can’t get over this. He booked a flight two months out, knowing the whole time he was going to break up with me? He kept Skyping and texting with me like everything was fine and dandy, all the while screwing his slut? What the hell!”

“Didn’t you kiss Rumlow?” Veronica asked as she chewed thoughtfully on an onion ring. She jumped up when Trent pinched her side in warning as Darcy gasped in indignation.

“That doesn’t count! That was for Britney Spears and I didn’t keep kissing him after,” insisted Darcy. She could feel her face heating up, which she knew was not helpful in trying to prove she had the moral high ground. Kissing Brock had totally been different. It was a distraction for an op. Or at least, the closest thing she’d ever be directly involved in that was remotely op like. Still, she didn’t start up a relationship with Brock. In fact, the only thing they’ve shared four months after that kiss have been awkward silences, stilted small talk and excessive clearing of throats. 

“Maybe you should have,” Veronica mumbled, going back to her burger with a shrug. As much as Darcy wanted to be annoyed with Veronica, that suggestion would have been one she’d not completely thrown out if she’d known that was to come with Ian. But Darcy was loyal as hell. It was just the type of person she was, as opposed to Ian. Yeah, her kiss with Brock had been better than all the kisses she and Ian shared (and she could admit that now that she’d been jilted). Yeah, she thought about Brock sometimes when she was alone and horny and might have used his sexy, jerk face as an occasional aid. Still, it hadn’t been cheating because other than the one kiss, she’d not done anything other than fantasize about someone she knew she’d never get even if she were single.

“What you need is a palate cleanser,” Trent announced, bringing Darcy’s attention away from the elephant in the room that she’d been trying to avoid. A buff elephant that just so happened to be in the Triskelion Atrium, striding towards one of the tower elevators, a few of the STRIKE team following behind. Okay, less elephant and more stalking predator. Darcy’s heart sped up just a little at the sight.

“Ooh, palate cleanser. I agree,” Veronica said with an enthusiastic nod, dragging Darcy’s eyes back to her companions in occasional crime.

“What’s a palate cleanser?” Darcy asked, though with the way Veronica was grinning, she could probably work it out on her own. It was probably about sex.

“It’s kind of like a rebound but better. A way to reset your brain and libido, if you will. Complete confidence booster when done right,” explained Trent. Darcy couldn’t help but let her mind wander to heated hazel eyes and softer than sin lips. “And I have the _best_ palate cleanser for you. The complete opposite of that little worm.”

“It is a woman? A woman would be the best palate cleanser,” insisted Veronica and Trent rolled his eyes at the suggestion. Ever since Veronica recently dipped her foot into the lesbian pond, she’d been expounding the virtues of head from another woman. Which, Darcy couldn’t argue the concept of a woman as the ultimate palate cleanser because that was in some ways the complete opposite of Ian.

“This guy has a six pack and although I cannot attest to it personally, is secretly nicknamed BDR by the women that introduced me to him,” Trent said, pausing for complete and somewhat annoying effect. Too many moments after he had gained both Darcy’s and Veronica’s attention, he continued. “It stands for Big Dick Rick.”

“Dick schmick. If you don’t know how to handle the lady jewels, then it doesn’t matter how big your dick is,” said Veronica, sitting up taller as she geared up to talk about why a woman would be better. Trent did not give her the chance. Despite Darcy’s better judgement, she was kind of interested in hearing what BDR was like.

“C’mon, he’s the perfect palate cleanser. Super hot, super buff and not the smartest. So, I’d stay away from politics as a conversation topic,” Trent said, pulling out his phone to start texting whoever this guy was. “Great ass too. He’d into body building but he’s not reached the creepy threshold yet. Trust me. He’s perfect for what you need right now. You’ve had your HPV vaccine, right?”

Trent continued to nonchalantly discuss BDR’s good qualities, which mostly consisted of his body, gym habits and his general ‘c’est la vie’ attitude when it came to sex.

“Wait, _what_?” Darcy’s voice was nearing screech like tones but it wasn’t quite there in decibel levels. She was officially no longer interested in BDR. “Absolutely not.”

“Hey! He’s free tomorrow night. What do you say?” Trent said in a tempting voice, absolutely confident that Darcy would say yes and showing no signs he’d heard her objection.

“Uh, I say let’s get back to the STD question before I agree to anything,” Darcy demanded, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“What?” asked Trent, completely affronted. “It’s just a general question. If you’re going to sleep around, make sure you’re as protected as you can be. Besides, HPV is the most common STD.”

“The women I can hook you up with don’t have HPV,” said Veronica with a haughty expression.

“You know one lesbian and you’re practically in love with her, so don’t kid me with that. My guy is qua-li- _ty_ ,” Trent said, gesturing violently at Veronica with his fork as she let out a noise that was something between a gasp and growl. The two of them fell into a heated debate on the virtues of penises versus vaginas and who could wield a tongue better. As a part of helping Darcy get over Ian, they’d both separately taken her to some gay and lesbian bars to dance out her troubles. Veronica thought the environment of a lesbian bar would be good just because there wouldn’t be many men. In the end, Veronica had been the one to discover new depths of her sexuality. Which, Darcy supported Veronica one hundred percent and was so happy for her but sometimes it stung just a little to be reminded of how Veronica’s love life was blooming

Rolling her eyes and sighing at the argument as it started to get a little violent, Darcy turned toward the window. As misguided as Trent and Veronica were about who would literally be the best ‘palate cleanser’ for Darcy, she had to admit the concept intrigued her. She’d never properly ‘rebounded’. Generally, after her break ups, she liked to take time for herself and reevaluate her choices. It somehow always ended up with her in another relationship. Admittedly, she’d had a very long list of terrible boyfriends. Maybe she should try something different this time.

As Darcy watched agents scurrying to and fro, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking back to the best kiss she’d ever had. At that moment, a harebrained schemed formed in Darcy’s head and she decided that there was no point in being coy. Ian was getting his so why couldn’t she get hers? Hell, Darcy deserved this. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to fall back on Trent’s option if it failed.

 

* * *

 

Darcy found him on the second floor of the parking garage. Thankfully. It was 5:45PM on a Friday and Darcy was starting to lose hope. Also, she’d taken an Uber to work this morning and it would be such an embarrassing shame to have to take one back home. Fun fact, only high level agents could park in the small parking area on Roosevelt Island. The rest of the plebs had to park at a designated spot off the island and then get shuttled in. So, really, not that anyone but her would know of her shame but still.

Taking a deep breath and hitching her velvet pink weekend bag on her shoulder, Darcy stared down Brock Rumlow and told herself it was now or never. With her head held up, she took a deep breath and strode with purpose. She’d worn her sexiest, figure hugging but still work appropriate dress today and was feeling pretty good, despite the fact that she got a little bit of mustard on her boob. You could hardly see it on the burgundy colored fabric, anyway. Darcy’s faux snakeskin four inch heels clacked on the cement floor and she could see Brock’s shoulders tense as he heard the sound, muscle memory going into attention even on his off hours.

“Rumlow, you have any plans for tonight?” Darcy asked loudly, praying they were still the only ones in the parking garage. Only a handful of cars were dotted around but she really didn’t want anyone to be an audience in case her feigned bravado backfired. Brock stopped at her voice and turned around, brow raising in genuine surprise at finding Darcy heading straight towards him, speaking in full, confident sentences.

“I was gonna meet some guys at a bar and watch the game. Why?” Brock asked, lips ever so pursed and looking just a tad pouty. Like, ‘suck me’ pouty. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose. She also briefly wondered what the actual details of his extremely vague description of the night was but decided she didn’t care.

“Well, instead, you’re taking me back to your place and we’re having sex,” Darcy said, beginning to take in another breath to explain why he should agree.

“Okay.”

“Because I have a Costco sized box of condoms in my bag and some really expensive honeymoon lingerie I can’t return- wait. Really?” Darcy stopped her list of ‘why Darcy is a good fuck choice’ to stare at confusion at Brock. He met it with a stupid grin.

“Yeah. Hell, I’m free all weekend if you’re up for it,” Brock said, raising his chin in a tempting nod and doing that jerk half pout again All Darcy wanted to do was kiss it off his face. Or maybe sit on it. The weekend offer was her best case fantasy scenario of how things could play out. Darcy wanted to make up for lost sexy times because Ian had been frustratingly docile during the act and she’d always been up for spicing things up in the past. Needless to say, she’d not been getting anything in a shamefully long time. Not even phone sex. She deserved toe curling, animalistic fucking. And this was already going strangely well for Darcy. It was almost suspicious. Clearing her throat, Darcy consciously stopped herself from shifting her weight between her feet.

“Oh. Well. I’m also free this weekend and uh…I did not think you’d agree this fast but I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Darcy said as she tried to grasp back the power. That was the point of a palate cleanser. To get her power and confidence back. She did not feel either of those things at the moment, looking into Brock’s eyes sparkling with untold filthiness he was quickly planning out.

“So?” Brock pointed a thumb at a nondescript black SUV that looked like all the other cars on this floor and she wondered how the agents found their cars. Was it a test that if they couldn’t remember the exact spot they parked, we weren’t allowed to use the Roosevelt Parking? Darcy didn’t have time to ponder that too long because Brock was already heading towards his car. Shaking her head, Darcy took a deep breath and gave her arm a pinch. The pain was a sign that this was actually happening. Something fluttered in her stomach and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning. Brock turned around and sent her a raised eyebrow in silent question of if she would follow him or if he would have to carry her over his shoulder.

Holy crap. This was not a drill.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Camila Cabello's song. Runner-up was Power and Control by Marina and the Diamonds. ;)


	3. Shivering Gold

 

Trying her best not to wobble or scurry because her heels were taller than she was used to and her dress was a little tight to fully sprint in, Darcy followed Brock to his car. She climbed into the passenger seat as gracefully as she could. Brock’s SUV was built like a Hummer and Darcy was almost average height, which made any attempt a little embarrassing.

Ten minutes of silence passed as Brock drove off Roosevelt Island and wove through DC traffic. As each minute passed, Darcy waited for Brock to pull up to a curb and tell her to get out because this was all an elaborate joke. Eventually, Darcy couldn’t take it any longer. She had fifteen reasons why he should have sex with her and had assumed she’d have to get through at last eight before he even let her in his car.

She was not angry at her luck but very seriously doubting it. When the amiable (mostly on Brock’s part) silence got the best of her, Darcy started to fiddle with the radio dials. After a couple of songs finished, she started to lightly clear her throat, tapping her foot against the plastic floor mat. From the corner of her eye, she could see Brock’s fingers tighten on the wheel. 

“All right. Go ahead and say what you want to say,” Brock said drolly.

“I…just thought you’d have more objections. Or questions or something,” admitted Darcy. She fiddled with the strap of her weekend bag, fingernail scratching the tight fabric weave.

“What can I say? I’ve been wanting to finish what we started,” said Brock with such finality, that Darcy wasn’t sure she could argue against that. She also didn’t want to delve into why she had the slight urge to play devil’s advocate against herself. That was not a good sign but she would explore that self-doubt and sabotage at a later time. A grin bloomed on Brock’s face. He didn’t smile often but it made butterflies flutter in Darcy’s stomach.  “Gotta admit, I’m curious what’s in your bag too. Costco condoms?”

“It’s a large variety pack. And I bought them off the internet. Amazon Prime member,” Darcy sang, pointing her thumbs at herself. Brock smirked but didn’t take his eyes off the traffic. Clearing her throat, she continued in a more self-deprecating tone. “I mean, I figured if I wasn’t getting sex while I was engaged, I might as well enjoy it now I’m single again.”

“Yeah…the fiancé,” Brock’s tone was flat, careful as if he was ensuring he gave nothing away. Not the sexiest foreplay talk, discussion of one’s ex-fiancé but Darcy thought it was well within Brock’s right to know that he was not the ‘other man’ in this scenario. At first glance, she might have assumed that Brock was a man who didn’t mind dabbling in adultery. Her opinion on that matter changed when during most of their awkward moments post-kiss and pre-Ian fuckery, Brock pointedly looked at her engagement ring. There hadn’t been an accusation in the glances but he certainly held himself back. It was obvious that he didn’t plan on moving forward with her while she was engaged. For some time, Darcy assumed it was because he had no real interest in her. But the ring had been off her finger for about a month and she had noticed Brock stood closer to her in elevators and initiated small talk more and more. “Noticed you weren’t wearing your ring. What happened there?”

“He cheated. A lot. So. Whatever. I’m better off without him,” Darcy said with a shrug and was pleased to find the ache in her chest had significantly lessened. Deciding to take the conversation towards lighter topics that would actually put them in the mood, Darcy held her bag closer to her chest and segued. “And he’s not gonna enjoy the honeymoon lingerie, so someone else might as well. I spent way too much money on it and I can’t return it.” 

“His loss,” Brock assured her and he sounded genuinely sincere. Biting her lip, Darcy debated on if she should follow it with a funny quip but stuck with a nod. They fell back into silence, letting the radio fill in for their conversation. About forty-five traffic filled minutes later, they’d arrived in Alexandria and Brock was driving through a suburb. When he pulled into the driveway of a very normal looking house, she rose an eyebrow. It seemed so…cozy. 

As she expected, the house was extremely sparse in personal touches. It was also furnished more as a bachelor pad than she was expecting. She supposed that made sense because he was technically a bachelor. For some reason, she assumed he lived in a weird, modern minimalist apartment that had all slate grey tones and marble accents. Darcy wasn’t sure she ever previously imagined Brock kicking back and relaxing, so maybe that’s where that image stemmed from. 

 When they first walked through the front door, Brock gestured for Darcy to make herself comfortable. She was a little disappointed when he didn’t throw her up against the wall and have his way with her after. She kicked off her heels and poked her head through the first door in the hall and saw the living room. After a few tentative steps into the room, she breathed deeply and took initiative. 

“Okay, so, how you want to do this?” Darcy asked, throwing her bag onto a plush, leather recliner. It wasn’t that Darcy was unfamiliar with one night stands…it was just they had been pretty cut and dry from beginning to end and this already felt different. Brock was not getting straight to the sex with a one-track mind, which had been the general tone of previous one-nighters. Darcy circled the room to get a better lay of the land before facing Brock. There was a black leather sofa and recliner set in front of a large flat screen TV mounted onto the wall. No pictures hung on the eggshell white walls. It all looked suspiciously normal.

When she faced Brock, she found him leaning against the door frame. He watched her with an amused smile but the emotion shining in his eyes was softer. Did he find her…endearing? It was a far cry from the sex goddess aura she was hoping for. Her stomach dipped in disappointment. Brock pushed off the frame and stalked towards her. New intent sparkled in his eyes and Darcy’s heart beat faster. He stopped in front of her, slowly drinking her in. He took his time cupping her face with his hands and tipping her head back. Leaning down, he let their breaths mingle for a long moment and Darcy’s eyes fluttered shut as his lips softly touched hers. 

Light burst behind Darcy’s eyelids and she was breathless. The initial touch was gentle, tentative but sweet. His lips nibbled at hers before sliding his tongue into her mouth. _Damn_ it was better than she remembered. Butterflies swarmed in Darcy’s stomach. A shiver ran down her spine. Her legs just about gave out under her so she leaned her body up against him. She let out a thankful, pleased sigh when he moved to wrap his arms around her waist. Brock tilted her back like she was the femme fatale getting swept away in a film noir drama. Some sort of vibration she couldn’t explain seeped into her bones. Anticipation perhaps? The sheer sexual frustration that had been building inside her exploding? Darcy was certain that Brock was about to pick her up and carry her to the closest flat surface. 

Of course, now was the time Darcy’s stomach decided to growl. Very loudly. She’d been too nervous to eat much more than a side salad for lunch and was cursing how she hadn’t forced herself to eat more in preparation. 

Brock broke their kiss, lifting Darcy back to standing straight. She couldn’t help but notice the way his body shook. It seemed to come from his shoulders, like he was trying to hold in laughter. So, not the emotion a femme fatale would have naturally instilled into her prey. 

“Want to order something? I don’t have much in my fridge,” Brock asked, taking a few steps away from her. The distance made her cold. Darcy wanted to cringe at herself. As she was coming up with a witty excuse, Brock just smirked. “You’re gonna need your energy. Better load up on carbs now. Want anything in particular?”

“Uh…no,” said Darcy, clearing her voice and shaking her head to try and clear out the fog that had descended during their kiss. This was a good sign. Right? At least he didn’t intend on kicking her out just yet. While Darcy was still trying to analyze his words and previous body language, she almost missed Brock walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen. When enough sense returned, Darcy followed him into a large kitchen with marble tops, steel accents and chef grade kitchen appliances. It was pristine, as if it hardly saw any use.

Brock was already on his cell phone and was talking in rapid Italian. If Darcy weren’t struggling to find footing in this entire situation, she might be offended that he’d just started ordering for her without asking for her preferences. Then again, she was _assuming_ that was what he did. She’d studied Spanish, not Italian, in high school and even that was semi passible as she’d not really been practicing. 

“You allergic to anything?” Brock asked suddenly and Darcy took a moment before shaking her head. He went back into his conversation but said his goodbyes about a minute later. Tucking the phone into his pocket, Brock offered Darcy a wink. “I’m gonna take a shower. I probably still have blood on me.” 

“If that’s your foreplay talk, I can’t want to hear what the dirty talk is like,” Darcy couldn’t help but blurt out dryly, even though her eyes were probably bulging out of her head. It wasn’t surprising to hear because Brock could have very easily killed or at the very least, maimed someone today at work. It was kind of his job. Still, it seemed they both weren’t working that hard to keep the repartee appropriately sexual. The grin Brock gave her was filled with mischief and she felt her face heat up. 

“I’d invite you but I think we’d miss the doorbell and Joe’ll get pissed if I don’t answer. He’d stop doing special deliveries for me,” Brock said, slapping Darcy gently on the ass as he walked past her. “Make yourself at home. Oh, and Joe may invite himself in so don’t get into anything too sexy yet.” 

Once Brock left the kitchen, Darcy stood staring at the spot he just vacated, her mouth open like a fish. 

“What is happening?” Darcy asked aloud, despite the fact she wasn’t going to get an answer. This entire sexual encounter was becoming horribly derailed and also, who the hell was Joe? Wherever Brock had ordered from probably didn’t deliver and how Brock had convinced them to do a ‘special’ delivery opened another entire realm of questions of what the hell? In her head, she’d imagined Brock to be more reserved. Probably because most of his file was redacted (yes, she’d checked the archives) and no one seemed to know anything about Brock’s origins. All they knew was that he’d made his way through the SHIELD ranks very fast and had been the Strike Team leader for about five years. Most people assumed he was a mercenary before SHIELD and a good number were convinced he’d been a hitman for the mob.

In general, he was very unapproachable and he probably enjoyed cultivating that image. Darcy kind of assumed that they’d just be having sex in a hotel and that she’d not learn much about Brock’s life. In the span of five minutes, Brock had become surprisingly human in her eyes and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, yet. She definitely didn’t hate it but it _was_ strange. He just seemed so relaxed in a way she never pictured him before.

In the end, Darcy settled on watching TV on his couch. There wasn’t much on so she settled on a documentary about mummies, because she didn’t need to reveal her trashy love of reality TV. Not that mummies were a topic that got her blood running but it seemed like a safe bet, if they weren’t going to have sex before the food got here. When Brock returned, he had on a tight, black shirt and grey sweatpants. It was similar to his SHIELD uniform. His hair was wet and slicked back but the tension she’d normally seen woven through his body at SHIELD had disappeared. Brock wasted no time sitting next to Darcy then pulling her into his lap. A spicy, warm scent spilled pleasantly off his skin. Darcy nuzzled at his neck and let her nose rub against the stubble along his chin. 

Brock turned his head, looking down on Darcy with dark eyes. He captured her lips in kiss, tightening his arms around her. They shared a series of long, drawn out kisses and tentative grips along flesh. There wasn’t full intent behind either but Darcy reveled in the feel of kissing for the sake of kissing. Most of her exes had seen kissing as just a means to sex or had a purpose behind their kisses, whether it was an attempt to manipulate or ask for forgiveness. Every so often, a pleased, breathy sigh would tumble from her lips because of a playful nip or a light stroke from Brock’s hand. By the time the doorbell rang, his hand was inching under the hem of her skirt and Darcy was very close to letting out a giddy little giggle. 

  

* * *

 

 

Joe ended up being a very flamboyant Italian who kissed both Brock and Darcy on the cheeks. He talked in a mix of Italian and English, though the English was probably more for Darcy’s sake. Still, Darcy found she quite liked him, especially how he berated Brock like a little boy for not taking the time and effort to take her out and show her a nice time. Not that Brock showed any sign of remorse. He took it all in stride with his stupid little smirk, occasionally giving Darcy’s body an inappropriate stroke behind Joe’s back. Joe took his time unboxing the food, explaining the dishes. He even poured some wine and fed Darcy a little bit of each dish. By the time he left, Darcy was digging into the delicious meal of pastas, salami and cheeses.

They ate their food in front of the TV, with the occasional small talk about their week. Darcy was mildly curious about how Brock got blood on himself but it was just from one of the Strike members not blocking properly during sparring. It was all weirdly domestic and Darcy was certain this was not how a palate cleanser evening was supposed to go. Despite that, Darcy was having a nice time. The domesticity of it all was something she’d been craving for a while and had been fully expecting her life to turn into. Even if she never imagined that she’d be laughing and sharing that with Brock, it was still nice. 

Very quickly after picking at the last pieces of her food, Darcy found her way back to Brock’s lap. She may have had a little too much wine at dinner but it didn’t dampen her enthusiasm. They started slow and sweet, with affectionate biting mostly initiated by Brock that made Darcy giggle. Somehow, they made their way to Brock’s already made bed, with her laying under him and his shirt hiked up under his arms as her fingers explored the muscled planes of his stomach and chest. Darcy broke their lingering kisses with the insistence that she would be changing into something a little more comfortable and Brock made no objections.

Once Darcy was ensconced in his bathroom, which had a very large tub she wanted to try later, she grew nervous again. The lingerie she bought ranged from typical to a little more experimental. At least regarding Darcy’s normal preferences. The more experimental had been pieces particularly catering to Ian. What Darcy should wear for her first time with Brock though, remained a mystery. For some reason, she decided on the most expensive thing she bought because she really wanted to justify the purchase. It could have also been the wine, which was giving her liquid courage. 

Of course, the ‘thing’ was just a rhinestone thong, a weird steampunk-esque body chain harness accented with cogs and a pair of gold nipple pasties. When Darcy looked at herself in the mirror, she reasoned that she should probably take this off and bury it at the bottom of her bag. Although it was an Agent Provocateur set, it just seemed kind of kitschy. As Darcy attempted to unchain it from her body, she heard Brock call out to ask if she was all right. Taking in a deep, fortifying breath, Darcy figured why not go big or go home? Though she really hoped she wouldn’t be going home without some much needed vitamin D. 

Cracking open the door just wide enough for her head, Darcy saw Brock sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off and dim lights creating shadows that accentuated his muscles. When he noticed Darcy, he raised a questioning eyebrow. Darcy’s confidence fell to her knees but she still managed to open the door and jut out a sassy hip. Her confidence crashed to her feet and shattered when Brock’s eyes widened as he unsuccessfully bit back a laugh. 

“How much did you pay for that?” asked Brock, shoulders shaking but there wasn’t any derision on his face. 

“Too much,” Darcy admitted, burying her head in her hands. “I don’t know. Ian goes to these Steampunk conventions and I thought the cogs were in theme. But I just look ridiculous. I’m like a steampunk concubine and I’m not into steampunk, so it’s just weird.” 

“Steampunk conventions? Really dodged a bullet there, Lewis,” said Brock, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he fought a smirk. 

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with roleplay but…ugh his hobbies aside, I really did dodge a bullet. We actually had nothing in common except a traumatic experience and he kind of hated all my friends,” Darcy let out a small but genuine laugh that was a combination of amusement at the life choices that brought her here and the acceptance that this was all ridiculous. Seriously. This was a $3,000 playsuit and she didn’t even really like it but she bought it with her cheating ex-fiancé in mind. Luckily, she bought it on sale and one of Ian’s sisters knew someone who was a high exec for Agent Provocateur, so extra discount. Still, no matter the discounts she’d been able to score on her haul from the high-end lingerie brand, Darcy couldn’t figure out a way to feel like this piece was a useful purchase. Everything else was straightforward sexy. This…was not. Obviously, according to Brock’s reaction. 

Letting out a sigh, Darcy turned back towards the bathroom. “I’ll find something else.”

“Now hold on, I didn’t mean you should change out of it. Let me do that,” Brock urged, standing up and dragging Darcy towards him so her back was against his chest. His warm hands skimmed her sides and playfully tugged at some of the chains. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, causing a set of shivers to run down her spine. “I mean, it’s ridiculous but you’re still hot.” 

Darcy’s entire face heated up and she wanted to curl in on herself in a bashful little puddle. Had she been facing Brock, she probably would have tried to bury her face in his chest to hide. Brock “Strike Team Alpha Leader, Level who knows what SHIELD agent and unofficially voted into the Top 5 Hottest Field Agents list” Rumlow thought Darcy Lewis was hot. Darcy “didn’t actually study a real science, a joke hire to most of the SHIELD agents and banned from talking to important people” Lewis. Thankfully, before Darcy could say something that might actually embarrass her, Brock took a small step back then lifted her into his arms, firefighter style.  

“And I think if you want to get back at him in some way, we should have sex with you wearing it. He won’t know but it’ll make you feel better.” 

“I do want to get my money’s worth out of this thing,” Darcy admitted, shyly but she was filled with excited anticipation nonetheless. Heat radiated off his skin and she leaned in, enjoying the warmth in the cool room. 

“Believe me, you’ll get it,” Brock said, voice lowering into a growl. Unmistakable intent lined his face as he gently lowered Darcy into the center of the bed. As Darcy scooted back against the pillows and shifted in an attempt to make herself comfortable (legitimately difficult with all the cogs and chains), Brock kissed his way up her legs. The scratch of his unshaven face made her body shiver as he interspersed bites and licks along her skin. When he reached her hips, his hands slowly massaging her thighs. His large, warm hands ran up her stomach and cupped her breasts. Try as she might to enjoy this experience to the fullest because holy crap Brock Rumlow was in between her legs, Darcy couldn’t stop herself from frequently wiggling around on the bed to try and find a comfortable position. It simply just could not be done in the damn thing. By the time Brock was in the middle of giving her a hickey on her collarbone, he started to notice. 

“You alright?” asked Brock, voice husky as he sat up. He kept his hands on Darcy’s hips.

“Oh, you know, just feeling like an idiot,” Darcy answered as nonchalantly as she could muster. Tears were beginning to form behind her eyes, which was beyond embarrassing. Swallowing past a painful lump in her throat, Darcy sniffled and resigned herself to the fact that she was probably going to be heading home without sex. As much Darcy wanted to be a goddess that was over her ex-fiancé, she wasn’t and the evening so far with Brock was bringing up emotions that she wasn’t ready to feel or even analyst to figure out what the hell kind of emotions they even were. 

“Why?”

“Ugh, I paid a grand for this stupid thing and it’s not even comfortable,” Darcy admitted in frustration that this night just seemed to continuously veer off course. She buried her face in a pillow and her next words came out muffled. “That was on sale too with extra discounts. Retail was $3,000.” 

“It’s worth fifty bucks,” Brock laughed but it wasn’t cruel, just extremely amused. “Hell, Rollins could make one for twenty with a glue gun and one of his coupons for Michaels.”

“Wait, are you suggesting Agent Rollins is an avid crafter?” asked Darcy, lifting her head off the pillow. Her extreme curiosity cut through her misery. 

“It’s part of his anger management classes,” Brock said, shrugging and offering Darcy a small smirk. “And that’s the only classified thing you’re getting from me this weekend.”  

When a couple tears feel down Darcy’s cheek despite her best effort to hold them back, Brock let out a sigh. He wiped them away with the pad of his thumb and continued before Darcy could apologize. “Hey, you’re not an idiot. Everyone’s spent way too much money on stuff they can’t return.” 

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as a guy that buys a lot of unnecessary things. No offense,” Darcy said, wiping away a few more stray tears with the back of her hand as she sat up. Brock watched her with an inscrutable expression, face neutral except for a slight twitch in the left corner of his lips. Without a word, he got off the bed and reached out for Darcy. Assuming he was going to lead her out of his house, Darcy let out a few more tears before taking his hand. When he grabbed a worn but large dark blue robe and wrapped her in it, she stayed silent though a few questions were on the tip of her tongue. She _would_ like to learn more about Rollins’ coupon and crafting habits before she was sent packing.

Taking her hand, Brock led Darcy through the house to a door in the living room that she previously assumed was a closet. When he opened the door and she saw steps leading up to a dark attic, anxiety started to ball in her stomach. Even as a light switch was flicked on, all Darcy could see were dark carpeted stairs and what she thought looked like wooden wainscoting.  

“You’re not about to show me an expensive murder room, are you?” Darcy asked carefully as she followed Brock up the stairs. He just let out a chuckle but said nothing. Soon enough, Darcy had a view of the attic. Her brow rose when she saw it was just a man cave designed to look kind of like a cigar lounge. Brown leather chairs, lit shelved wall display of scotches, a small bar, a poker table and a pool table. A flat screen TV was carefully placed in the room so that you almost didn’t see it unless you were searching for it. Baseball and football memorabilia artfully decorated the room. 

“Believe me, everything in this room combined cost a lot more than a few grand,” Brock announced. “I’ve also only used this room a handful of times. Not nearly enough to justify buying all this stuff.” 

The gesture of proving he was not immune to poorly regulated retail choices replaced the anxiety in Darcy’s stomach with a giddy warmth. If someone had told her at the beginning of the week that Agent Rumlow would try to make her feel better about her stupid purchases by bringing her into a room of his own stupid purchases, she would have laughed. She walked into the room, running a finger along the smooth edge of the pool table. Moving to the rack of balls, she rolled them around the table, enjoying the clacking against the wooden rack. Taking another look around her, she examined the bottles of scotch behind the bar. Quite a few she recognized as expensive and they all varied in how much had been drunk. Signed baseballs and jerseys were framed around the room. It was all artfully decorated. 

“Okay, since we’re sharing, I’ve always wanted to know how to play pool. Kind of always wanted to walk into a biker bar and play everyone out of their money,” Darcy said and Brock rose an eyebrow. 

“I can tell you from experience that’s an easy way to get beat up,” Brock warned, trailing until he stood behind her, hands reaching out to take the pool rack from her. He leveled the balls and lifted the rack. 

“Is this more confidential information?” Darcy asked, voice rising in curiosity.

“No, I got cocky when I was a kid and pissed off the wrong bikers. Bikers that sell drugs. Not the ones that collect money for charity,” Brock said, voice lowering as he rubbed the tip of his nose along the top of Darcy’s ear. Just as heat exploded between her legs, Brock stepped back and grabbed a cue. Darcy looked over her shoulder to find him chalking the tip. He winked and walked to the other end of the table, nodding his head to the side to get her to follow. When she did, he moved to stand behind her again but this time, put the cue in her hands and arranged her body in the correct stance. The heat from his body seeped through the soft robe Darcy wore. Brock kept his position and grip as he showed her how to pull the cue back and aim. With Brock’s help, Darcy hit the cue ball and it rocketed forward, broking the formation at the other end of the table in a loud crack. The balls separated and two fell into pockets.

Darcy held onto the cue, admiring the decent break shot as Brock stepped back to examine the new placement of the balls on the table. “Though, you’re cute. They might let you go the first time. But I’d still stay out of biker bars, if I were you.” 

The rest of the night was spent learning tips from Brock about pool, sipping expensive scotches and trying her best to taste the subtleties and finding out so much more about Brock’s past then Darcy ever thought she would know. He grew up in New York City but his parents died when he was young. Even though he bounced around foster care, he ended up taking a job at an Italian bakery to try and get in touch with his roots. He still liked to make cannoli on occasion and Joe would sell them in the restaurant.

Darcy promised herself she’d not talk about Ian tonight but she ended up explaining the situation. Brock just listened calmly and made appropriate jokes every so often. It was nice and she didn’t realize she just needed someone to listen to her and not look at her with sad, pity-filled eyes. The last thing she remembered was cuddling up next to Brock on the couch, head on his chest and eyelids growing heavy as she told him about her disastrous eighth birthday party being derailed by a cranky pony.     

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be significantly shorter but also pure smut so you can either stop reading now if it's not your thing or wait in anticipation. ;) 
> 
> Chapter title taken from the song by Tove Lo. The cog body playsuit was actually one sold by Agent Provocateur but they took it off their website and I can't link it for you curious souls. Because seriously I couldn't understand why it was worth 3 grand. 
> 
> Thanks and love for all the kudos and comments. I'm trying to get better at replying to comments but also I'm now worried the more you guys talk to me, the more you'll realize how horribly awkward and weird I am and then you won't want to read my fics.


	4. Bon Appétit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna name today Smutty Sunday because...there's a lot of smut in this. Seriously. It's all just smut with a few giddy feels sprinkled in. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Chapter title from Katy Perry's song. Runners up include Sex With Me by Rihanna and Feeling Myself by Nicki Minaj ;-)

Darcy woke with a groan. Despite her dry mouth and the pieces of metal digging into her skin, she felt very well rested. When she slowly opened her eyes, she found herself alone in an unfamiliar bedroom. Her chest tightened and her breath stuck in her throat until images of the night before filtered through her head. She’d commanded Brock to take her to his place for sex, had a nice dinner, wore poorly chosen lingerie and then fell asleep without having had any sex. Not only did she fail to seduce Brock, she also was currently sleeping in a puddle of her own drool.

Darcy Lewis: grade-A man repellent and boner deflator extraordinaire.

Embarrassment replaced the panic and Darcy let out another groan, shutting her eyes tight as if that would transport her to a world of no shame. Or at the very least, her apartment. When she reopened her eyes, she still lay alone on Brock’s bed. There did appear to be some rumpled sheets next to her. Brock must have carried her downstairs after she’d fallen asleep and gotten his own rest next to her. Which reminded her that she entered this situation with the full enthusiasm of a sex goddess and was now drooling into a pillow.

Another crushing wave pulled her in and she covered her eyes with her hands, scrunching up her face. She couldn’t even get Brock to fuck her despite that being the only reason for this entire arrangement. If she couldn’t keep a nerdy, proper British man interested in her, how was she going to wow a guy like Brock? A man whose dick was labeled as ‘5 stars on Yelp, would fuck again if he’d let me’ according to the few gossipy SHIELD agents that had one-nighters with him. To be fair, the Hottest Male Agents of SHIELD list had gotten a little raunchy and the creators had been reprimanded. Probably not the most accurate list to swear by but Darcy always shot for the stars even if she landed horribly far away from where she intended. At this point, she was probably in a grave six feet under. 

As Darcy brushed her teeth and washed her face, she decided to make one more attempt but would not fight if he asked her to leave. Their night had been fun but after they’d gone up to his man cave, Brock had made no attempts to get into her lady cave. A girl could take a hint but a girl also knew that crying about your ex-fiancé in front of a man you intended to have a one night stand with was a major boner killer. In fact, as Darcy changed into another set of lingerie for her final attempt at seduction, she considered the very likely possibility that Brock left a note on the kitchen counter telling her how he would be gone for the rest of the weekend and that she should lock up behind herself. Wrapping herself in Brock’s robe in case there were other Italian men loitering around for breakfast, Darcy went to look for Brock.

The fear of Brock ghosting her vanished when she heard the loud whirring of a coffee bean grinder. She followed the sound to the kitchen and found Brock puttering around. Classic rock played softly and Brock hummed along tunelessly. He wore a tight grey shirt and the same sweatpants from the night before. Slightly mussed hair had been quickly brushed back by his fingers and dark stubble lined his face. Darcy knew that she’d be perfectly fine waking up to this mouthwatering image for the rest of her life. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air and toast popped up from the toaster, startling Darcy somewhat. As Brock grabbed a couple of mugs from a cupboard, he caught Darcy gazing from the corner of his eye. He turned and gave her a fond smile. 

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted to eat. Thought I’d start with coffee and toast. Want any cream or sugar?” Brock asked, gravelly voice sending a pulse of lust through her body. In answer, Darcy untied the robe and let it pool around her feet. Brock’s eyes widened and his jaw opened slightly at the sight of her black lingerie. Now _that_ was the response Darcy had been hoping for last night. 

“So, I probably should have led with this one, huh?” Darcy teased, putting a hand on her hip and tilting her head to the side as she bit her lip. It was another Agent Provocateur purchase but one she foresaw herself using quite often from now on. The matching suspender and bra set consisted of black elastic straps that cupped and wrapped around her body liked a formfitting cage. The bra cup was open except for the straps that covered her nipples and wove intersecting lines over her upper chest. She’d put on stockings and black heels to complete the ensemble. 

“It may have helped,” Brock admitted after swallowing, voice low and dangerous. His reaction sent a boost of much needed confidence rushing through her. The air around them thickened. A shiver ran down her spine, pooling between her legs. Darcy made her way to the kitchen table and sat on the edge, facing him. She was pleased to find it sturdy and watched him as he set the mugs on the counter. Placing her heels on the seat of the chair, Darcy opened her knees to show off the slit in her panties.

Brock stood taller and his eyes dropped to the opening with the lift of a brow. He fought a smirk by licking his lips. Desire sparkled in his eyes and it sent another thrum through her, slicking up her passage. His breath grew heavier but he didn’t make a move towards her. Darcy’s heartbeat quickened as she considered her next move. Leaning her body back, she shifted her weight onto the hand behind her and let the other wander to her opening. She used a finger to trace her lower lips, dipping into the soft warmth. Keeping her eyes on Brock, she found her clit and began to circle it with light touches. Little gasps dripped from her mouth. As she splayed her legs wider, Brock walked over. Her breath hitched as he pulled out the chair. Darcy thought he would touch her but instead, he sat down and leaned back. Letting her feet dangle of the table, Darcy let out a loud moan when she dipped a finger inside her. She arched her back and pumped a few times, adding a second finger. 

Brock’s eyes darkened and she looked down to find him fighting a grin. Warm, calloused hands ran up her thighs with feather light touches. Darcy stopped pumping and went back to rubbing her clit softly. Although she knew how to finish herself off quickly, she wanted to drag this out. She alternated between fast swipes and slow circling. The warm hands on her thighs were replaced with Brock’s mouth. He placed wet, sloppy kisses atop the stockings. Then he moved to suck on the skin of her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to her opening. As close as he got, he still avoided placing his mouth where she really wanted.

“This is better than toast and coffee,” Brock mumbled against her thigh, the deep rasp of his voice making Darcy even wetter. He licked her thigh again, tongue inching up to her soaking lips. The tip of his nose rubbed along the edge of her panties and Darcy let out a breathy plea. Brock’s tongue licked up her thigh tracing the garter clips before moving to her stomach, where he nibbled her right under her belly button.

“That’s just not fair,” Darcy complained, letting out a frustrated huff. Instead of obliging, he chuckled and nipped at her knee. She went back to slower circles around her clit, letting begging whines and low moans tumble out of her mouth. Without warning, Brock stuck his tongue deep inside Darcy and she arched backwards, tightening her thighs around his head. “Oh god, yes!”

As Brock swirled his tongue inside her, Darcy slowed her steady circling, determined to draw out the pleasure for as long as she could. She closed her eyes and titled back her head, feeling herself getting closer and closer to coming. Just as she reached the edge, Brock moved away. She stopped rubbing her clit, determined to fix Brock with a pout. When she opened her eyes, she found Brock stepping out his sweatpants leisurely to reveal a thick, hard member. Next, he shrugged off his shirt. Her mouth watered at the sight of his sculpted and slightly scarred body. Darcy reached out to grip his length, rubbing her thumb underneath the head. He exhaled and leaned down for a kiss. She could taste herself on his lips as he deepened the kiss until it grew messy and heated. She slid her hand up and down Brock’s cock and continued to circle her clit as he moved forward to settle between her legs. 

Brock drizzled kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave red marks that were likely to turn into small bruises. As he worked on leaving lasting proof of their encounter along her collarbone, Brock stilled Darcy’s ministrations with a clutch on her wrist. He moved her arms so they settled around his neck. Hands settled back on her body and slid up her stomach towards her breast. He lowered the strip of fabric covering one nipple and sucked it into his mouth as let his tip skim along her opening. 

“ _Brock_ ,” Darcy whined, enjoying the feel of hot skin against hers but knowing if she didn’t get more, she might start crying. “I’m so wet. I want you inside me.” With a final, hard suck, Brock caught Darcy’s mouth with his in a loud, smacking kiss. She felt one of his hands grip her ass and he shifted. The change in position allowed his cock to slide fully inside her. Darcy’s body melted against him as she let out a delirious, high pitch gasp.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Brock choked out and then stilled with a loud moan, “been wanting to fuck you for so long.” 

“Then fuck me,” commanded Darcy, clenching around him, running her nails down his back until he shivered. She teetered dangerously close to the edge. A primal sound rose from his gut. Brock pumped three times before Darcy came. She fluttered around him with a relieved gasp and he stilled his hips as she slowly lay back onto the table. His hands wrapped around her thighs in a tight grip and he panted as she continued to squeeze around him. As she relished the orgasm washing over her, she lifted her hands over her head, dragging her hair so it lay out flat above her. The cool wood of the table a nice balm to her warm skin. 

Darcy looked down her body when Brock tugged on her thighs to drag her closer. He sat as deep as he could get. A lazy, arrogant smile twisted his mouth. She closed her eyes when he started to pump in and out again, this time in a steady pace with more force. A happy sigh floated up from her. The table rocked, legs creaking loudly, mixing with the soft rock and sounds of skin on skin. Another orgasm built up inside Darcy and she watched Brock’s hips. Louder, forceful moans spilled from Darcy again. She played with her nipples, not breaking eye contact. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her heels dug into his ass. 

“How long have you been wanting to fuck me?” Darcy asked in between gasps. She licked her lips, smiling as his Adam’s apple bobbed and he grunted harshly. His thrusts grew harder and almost knocked the air out of her.

“Since I first met you. Shit, I just kept thinking about your red lips around my cock,” Brock said, voice a deep growl. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to take you inside the elevator. If you hadn’t walked away when you did that first time we kissed, I would have been balls deep in you out in that hall. Fiancé or not.”

The images Brock conjured heated Darcy’s entire body. They’d first met about a week into Darcy working at SHIELD, meaning he pretty much wanted to do her for her entire duration of her career in DC. A giddy, floating sensation filled her body at his confessions and she was sure her smile was more of a silly, stupid grin. A giggle bubbled up from her chest. She watched as Brock’s muscles bulged and tighten until she came a second time. Her back arched away from the table and she continued to tweak at her nipples as bliss weighed down her muscles. Brock’s breath began to stutter and he pulled out of her just in time to come over her stomach and breasts. 

When her orgasm subsided, Darcy smoothed the white cum across her belly, frowning slightly at where it stained her lingerie. Above her, Brock let out a harsh curse at the sight, though she took it more as a praise. She looked up to find him watching her with pupil blown eyes. Feeling sated in a way she could never remember before, Darcy sat back up and pushed at Brock to let her off the table. With minor protest on his part, he allowed her to stand. Darcy’s legs were a little wobbly on her heels and Brock pulled her into his arms. They shared a slow, undemanding kiss. When they separated, she took a deep breath and grabbed a paper towel to wipe the remaining cum off her body. 

“You ever had sex in that tub?” Darcy asked over her shoulder. “I think it would wake me up more than coffee. Besides, it’s on my list.”

“List?” Brock asked, dazed grin on his face. 

“Yeah, I made a list of different positions I wanted to try. Or places,” Darcy admitted, tossing the paper towel and headed towards the hall. Brock stalked towards her in slow, measured steps.  

“Oh really?” Brock asked, intrigued. His hands slid up her spine when he reached her. Placing a peck on her shoulder, he unhooked her bra and she shrugged it off, letting it fall. Goosebumps formed where he nuzzled his nose along her neck and his fingers rubbed her pebbled nipples.  

“On a table, on a counter, from behind, me on top- front and reverse, me tied up, _you_ tied up, and maybe that wheelbarrow thing if I have the arm strength, in a tub…oh and you have my full permission to wake me up with sex if I fall asleep” Darcy said, counting off her list on her fingers and biting her bottom lip. She enjoyed the rumbling hum that vibrated his chest. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done some of them but it’s been such a long time and I think I’m really dirty now so maybe a bath’s in order.” 

“Believe me, there’s a lot more we can do to get you dirty enough for a bath. I’d like to take a look at this list and offer my own suggestions,” Brock whispered into her ear, filthy promise dripping in his voice. 

Darcy pushed her ass against Brock’s cock, which now only stood at half-mast. “Well, let me know how much time it takes for you to bounce back and we can figure out how many on the list to fit in this weekend. I know I brought a ton of condoms but I kind of want you to come inside me,” said Darcy, feeling her cheeks heat up at the admission. She wasn’t even sure where the urge stemmed from. Although she’d been on birth control for the entirety of her sexually active days, she’d still made her boyfriends wear condoms. Only a couple guys came inside her. It was just an intimacy she really didn’t want to get into with a lot of guys. But with Brock, it just seemed like a super hot idea. She’d also perused the basics of his medical file yesterday and knew he was clean.

With a little wiggle of her ass, Darcy walked towards the living room. She made it three steps before she felt Brock lift her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squealed in excitement. A bolt of anticipation to ran down her body at the show of strength. He headed into the living room and sat her down on the sofa. 

“Give me a hand then, if you wanna see how fast I bounce back,” said Brock, fists propped on his hips and suggestion evident by his smirk. With her sitting on the sofa, her head was just about at the same height as Brock’s cock. Now it lay flaccid but Darcy offered a raised eyebrow as she looked up. Making eye contact, she leaned in and licked along his tip. She fondled his balls and sucked him deep into her mouth. Brock mumbled breathless snippets of encouragement as she worked him until he was rock hard. His fingers tangled in her hair as he slowly pumped in and out of her mouth. When he pulled out of her mouth completely, Darcy whimpered and he cursed as her eagerness.

“I’ll come on your face later,” Brock swore and Darcy couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she snorted. “I gotta get you dirty before we take a bath, remember? But now, on your hands and knees. I’d take your heels off too. You’ll get more traction.”

Darcy did as he told and got a swat on the ass for taking her time. As she settled into a comfortable position on the carpet, knees splayed out just a little, Brock got to his knees and slammed into her. The carpet rubbed uncomfortably against her skin as she scrambled to keep stable. After the initial slam, Brock slid smoothly in and out of her in a lazy but much more manageable pace. Although she let out little, happy whimpers, this angle didn’t hit quite as much as she’d want. Brock wasn’t in any hurry though and he let out occasional pleased hums, fingers alternating between grabbing her hips and playing with the many straps of her garter belt.

“I think about you a lot when I get off,” Darcy’s admission made Brock hips stutter but he quickly found his rhythm again. Slow and steady. She wondered if this counted as tantric sex.

“Yeah?” He dropped a kiss to her back in encouragement.

“I thought about you when I was engaged too. All alone in my bed, getting myself off on a vibrator,” continued Darcy. If he was going to be honest with her, she should be honest with him. Besides, given how the day was playing out, she was no longer ashamed of her depraved fantasies. In fact, now she was hoping they could bring them to life. “I imagined you filling me up completely, just like this. I have a big dildo and I’d just slam it in me, pretending it was you. I even brought it with me if you want to watch.”

“ _Shit_ ,” grunted Brock, hips speeding up and fingers digging into her skin. “I’d like that,” he said breathless, pumping for a few more minutes before pulling out of her. Standing up, he helped Darcy up then sat back on the sofa, sinking into the cushions and splaying out his knees. She didn’t need a prompt to settle in his lap and sink on top of him. The new angle hit her G-spot and she sighed with a smile. They resumed the same steady pace, now Brock lifting her up with his forearms before letting gravity help slide her down. He buried his face in her chest and began sucking on one of her nipples.

“I also don’t let guys come inside me a lot. Ian didn’t even do it,” said Darcy, voice hitching as she arched her back and ran her fingers through Brock’s hair. He licked her nipple before moving to the other and repeating. Holy crap. This was seriously the best palate cleanser in the history of time. Being with Brock was freeing. The pressure to impress disappeared entirely. She’d never felt this comfortable with a man during sex and Darcy wondered if it was just his attitude or if she was finally doing that living in the moment thing people were always telling her to do. Confessions spilled out of her without shame or concern as her fingers traced the scars on his chest and biceps. “Oh, _oh_ , I’m coming again.”

She keened as satisfaction crashed over her without warning. Not as intense as the ones before but she still clenched around Brock and rocked through it. When their skin began to stick uncomfortably to the leather of the sofa, Brock carried her to his bedroom. They kept at their steady pace, trying out a few different positions of Brock’s suggestion, tangling further into the sheets as Darcy saw stars. A brief toast and coffee break later and Darcy came two more times. Her grand total higher than she’d ever come in a span of 48 hours. Seriously, she didn’t think it was possible to have that many orgasms in just over an hour.

In the last round, Darcy lay on her stomach, Brock’s body weighing her down in time with his thrusts. Exhaustion rooted into her bones but she was content. Although Brock obviously liked things rougher and much more intense than Darcy was used to, gentle affection connected his actions. He regularly asked and made sure she was okay. Lots of little kisses were showered over her shoulders, back, neck and face when his warm, gentle touch wasn’t reassuring her. Who’d ever thought that when Brock Rumlow looked down on Darcy, it would be with a tenderness that made her blush? Not what she’d anticipated or even dreamed out of this but she soaked it up eagerly nonetheless. 

With a soft mumble, Darcy begged Brock to finish before she just fell asleep with him still rocking into her. His hips snapped a dozen times more times, hard and heavy until he grunted and spilled heat inside of her. As she let sleep take her, she mumbled something about needing a lot of sleep. At least she thought she did. Darcy wasn’t entirely sure. She’d never been this drained from sex and probably wasn’t speaking a real language. Brock laughed as he slid out and jumped off the bed. How did he have this much energy still? Maybe she really should consider going to the gym if it would give her even a fraction of his stamina. Brock returned with a damp cloth that he wiped between Darcy’s legs. She hissed at the cool, rough cloth running along her tender skin but didn’t complain. Once finished, he crawled back into bed, cradled her in his arms and covered them both with a blanket.

“No sleeping for more than an hour. I have a lot more planned for you,” Brock said with a kiss to her forehead.

“I better have pancakes when I wake up. And eggs and bacon,” Darcy commanded with the last bit of energy she had left. She was gonna need more carbs if this was only the beginning of Brock’s weekend plans. She also could not deny _this_ was the ultimate palate cleanser. In fact, Darcy was fairly certain that by the end of the weekend, her palate would be cleansed multiple times over. Enough for a lifetime. She doubted that anyone Veronica or Trent could have hooked her up with would ever matched this. Brock’s promise of a large breakfast reached deaf ears. Darcy fell asleep again but this time sated, sticky and more content than she could ever remember feeling.

 


End file.
